“We only escaped a matter of three weeks ago,” answered Phil.
“You make ze escape, monsieur?” the little man repeated, lifting his eyebrows in his amazement. “Truly, you Englishmen are brave. Ha, ha!” he went on, clapping his hands, “what need I, Pierre Moutard, fear? We will make ze escape with each others, and we will snap ze fingers at our perfide enemy;” and, putting his arms akimbo and throwing his chin proudly in the air, he frowned at the nearest sentry as though he would eat him. The man answered with a hoarse growl, causing the Frenchman to start and take his place between Phil and Tony rather hurriedly.
“Aha, ze perfide!” they heard him mutter beneath his breath. “He think ’e frighten me.”
“I wonder where they will take us!” mused Phil. “If only they will be good enough to put us in the same prison as last time, I think we can guarantee that we will get out somehow.”
“That we will,” answered Tony with emphasis. “But what about this here Froggy with the red legs?” he asked in a cautious whisper. “He’s kind of tied himself on to us—made pals of us, yer see,—so I suppose he’ll have to escape with us too?”
He asked the question as though an escape had been already arranged.
“Heaps of time to think of that,” said Phil, with a laugh. “But I must say the little man seems rather nervous.”
“Pah! nervous! Just fancy getting frightened when one of these surly-looking guards growls at him. It’s disgusting, that’s what it is.”
“Well, we won’t worry about it now, Tony. Look out. Here come our orders.”
An officer joined the group at this moment, and closely inspected the prisoners.